The final notes of the music lingered in the air like a held breath before fading into applause.
Couples slowed, then separated, laughter and murmured compliments flowing freely as the dancers stepped away from the floor. The dance had done exactly what it was meant to do. It dazzled, distracted, and bonded.
Jaune exhaled softly as he stepped back with Weiss and Blake, the three of them finding a quieter pocket near one of the marble columns.
"That," Blake said, rolling her shoulders subtly, "was a lot more fun than I expected."
Weiss smiled faintly at that, though her gaze drifted across the hall as the guests reorganized themselves. The crowd shifted with purpose now. Conversations shortened. Drinks were finished or set aside. People began gravitating toward the raised platform at the far end of the hall, where a sleek stage had been prepared earlier and left deliberately untouched.
Jaune followed her line of sight and paused.
"…Am I the only one who finds that a little strange?" he asked quietly.
Weiss blinked. "What is?"
He nodded toward the dance floor, where General Ironwood and Winter Schnee had been moving together in a brief, formal dance that had clearly been more about appearances than enjoyment.
Jaune scratched his cheek. "Ironwood dancing with Winter. That just… feels odd."
Blake glanced over, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. "Yeah. I was thinking the same thing."
Weiss hesitated, then sighed. "Perhaps..."
Jaune raised a brow. "Really?"
She nodded once. "General Ironwood doesn't usually indulge in things like that. And Winter… well. She's never been fond of formal dancing. If she agreed to it, it was for a reason."
Blake hummed thoughtfully. "Politics."
"Always," Weiss replied.
The brief moment passed as Ironwood and Winter separated and joined other clusters of guests. The hum of conversation lowered again, anticipation replacing casual chatter.
Then Jacques Schnee stepped forward.
The shift was immediate.
He stood at the center of the stage, immaculate as ever, dressed in a tailored suit that seemed designed to reflect authority rather than comfort. His posture was confident, his smile polished, and his presence commanded attention without needing to demand it.
Lights subtly adjusted, drawing focus toward him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Jacques began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. "Honored guests, council members, delegates, and partners from across the kingdoms. I would like to thank you all for attending tonight's celebration."
Applause followed, if a bit restrained.
Jacques continued, speaking of cooperation, shared security, and the future. He spoke of sacrifice and progress, of the dangers posed by the Dream Realm and the necessity of innovation. It was not a speech meant to inform. Everyone present already knew the broad strokes.
This was reassurance.
"This evening," Jacques said, spreading his hands slightly, "marks the culmination of years of research, collaboration, and perseverance. A project made possible through the combined efforts of the Schnee Dust Company, LUCID, and some of the greatest minds our world has to offer."
At his gesture, attendants emerged from the side of the stage, pushing several large rolling display cases into view.
They were tall and elongated, each covered in a sleek mechanical tint that shimmered faintly, obscuring whatever lay beneath. The tint was not glass, but something more advanced. A controlled opacity field designed to conceal and protect.
Arthur Watts joined Jacques on stage, followed by Pietro Pollendina, maneuvering his wheelchair into place.
Jaune's attention sharpened immediately.
Weiss leaned closer to him. "This is it."
Jacques smiled broadly. "It is my honor to introduce the architects behind the Centurion initiative. Doctor Arthur Watts and Doctor Pietro Pollendina."
Applause broke out again, stronger this time.
Watts inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the recognition with restrained pride. Pietro waved cheerfully, clearly more at ease with public appreciation.
"The Centurion project," Jacques continued, "was born from a simple question. How do we reduce the cost of human life in the Dream Realm while increasing our capacity to respond to large scale threats?"
He gestured toward the display cases. "The answer stands before you."
At a subtle signal, the mechanical tint on the first case retracted, folding inward with a soft hum.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
The revealed figure stood tall on a set of articulated mechanical spider legs, each limb ending in a reinforced point that rested against the platform. Above the legs rose a humanoid torso, sleek and armored, its design balanced between machine and person.
"This," Jacques announced, "is the Archer Centurion."
The unit's upper body featured reinforced plating and a stabilized shoulder mount that housed a long distance runic rifle. Its optics glowed faintly, tracking the room in controlled, non threatening arcs.
"Designed for long range engagement," Pietro explained, his voice amplified gently. "The Archer Centurion excels at overwatch and rapid precision elimination within Nightmare zones. Its mobility allows it to reposition across unstable terrain with ease."
Truth be told, the spider legs made sense. They distributed weight and allowed for vertical traversal. Perfect for ruined dream cities and fractured environments.
The second case opened next.
Another spider legged frame emerged, but this one was different. Sleeker. More aggressive.
"This is the Gladius Centurion," Watts said, stepping forward. "Close combat specialization."
The torso was broader, and instead of two arms, it possessed four. The upper pair ended in runic blades integrated directly into the forearms. The lower pair held compact runic pistols, their barrels etched with glowing glyphs.
"An asura-like configuration," Blake murmured.
Weiss nodded. "Overwhelming force in confined spaces."
"The Gladius is designed to operate where awakened operatives would face unacceptable risk," Watts continued. "It excels in suppression, crowd control, and direct engagement against high density hostile entities."
The final case rolled forward.
Larger than the others.
The mechanical tint retracted slowly, deliberately.
What emerged drew a collective intake of breath from the audience.
This Centurion stood upright.
It was fully humanoid, yet towering.
Nearly nine feet tall, its frame was broad and imposing, layered with heavy armor plates that suggested durability over speed. Its limbs were thick, reinforced, and powerful, and its chest housed a glowing core of some sort of condensed runic energy.
"This," Jacques said, his voice carrying a note of pride, "is the Juggernaut Centurion."
Jaune stared.
It looked a walking fortress. Practically similar in design to a titan class rune frame in all but name.
"Designed to anchor engagements," Pietro explained. "The Juggernaut provides frontline stability, heavy fire support, and shielding capabilities. It can withstand sustained punishment that would overwhelm other units."
"Juggernaut," Jaune muttered. "Yeah. That fits."
Jacques allowed the applause to crest before lifting a hand.
"There is one more voice that deserves to be heard this evening," he said smoothly. "A man whose responsibilities lie not in production or research, but in the lives and safety of those who stand on the front lines."
He turned slightly toward the edge of the stage.
"General James Ironwood."
The reaction was immediate.
Applause rose again, stronger this time, edged with respect rather than celebration. Ironwood stepped forward from the crowd, his presence commanding without effort.
Jacques extended a hand.
Ironwood took it firmly.
He followed with brief nods to Arthur Watts and Pietro Pollendina. Watts returned the gesture with restrained formality. Pietro smiled warmly, offering a small wave that Ironwood acknowledged with a softening of his expression.
When Ironwood turned to face the crowd, the room quieted completely.
"My thanks to the Schnee Dust Company and the Centurion development team," he began, voice steady and unamplified yet carrying clearly through the hall. "What you see here tonight represents years of effort directed toward a very real problem."
He paused, eyes sweeping across the gathered delegates, councilors, and operatives.
"Manpower. LUCID is effective," Ironwood said plainly. "But it is not limitless. Many of you are aware that the majority of LUCID's field strength lies within its Rank Two operatives. They are highly capable. Exceptionally so. They are trained to respond to threats across entire kingdoms and they do exactly that."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Rank Two operatives routinely travel thousands of kilometers. City to city. Town to town. Nightmare zone to Nightmare zone. They are tasked with identifying and neutralizing any Rank Two and below threats they encounter along the way."
Jaune felt the words settle heavily.
Ironwood continued. "While they are capable of this level of deployment, the reality is that they are overextended. The current operational tempo is not sustainable."
A murmur passed through the audience, subdued but acknowledging.
"Smaller towns and villages," Ironwood said, "do not possess the same density of awakened individuals as major population centers. Many have no permanent LUCID presence at all. When a Nightmare breach occurs in those regions, response times are longer than we would like. Not because of negligence, but because our personnel are already committed elsewhere."
He gestured toward the Centurions behind him.
"These units change that."
The Archer, Gladius, and Juggernaut Centurions stood silent and imposing under the stage lights.
"Centurions will be deployed first and foremost to smaller towns and villages," Ironwood explained. "They will serve as immediate response units capable of containing and neutralizing Rank One and below threats. Their presence ensures that escalation is delayed or prevented entirely while higher rank operatives are mobilized only when truly necessary."
"They will also be deployed into the Dream Realm alongside existing LUCID operations," Ironwood added. "Not as replacements for awakened personnel, but as force multipliers. Support units that reduce risk and increase coverage."
Ironwood clasped his hands behind his back.
"By delegating lower tier threats to autonomous units with Rank One combat capability, we relieve a significant portion of the burden currently placed on our Rank Two operatives. This allows them to focus on high priority targets, large scale Nightmare zones, and emerging anomalies that require human judgment and adaptability."
"These machines do not tire," Ironwood said. "Nor do they hesitate. Most importantly, they do not replace the judgment or courage of the people who fight for this world. They exist to ensure that our people are not worn down fighting battles that should never have reached that scale."
Silence followed, a contemplative one.
Ironwood nodded once. "The Centurions are not the future of LUCID. They are its reinforcement."
Applause rose again, slower but more resolute.
Jaune joined in, his thoughts turning inward.
Rank One strength.
Strategic placement.
Reduced strain.
On paper, it was a solution that made sense.
Yet, did it justify using the dead bodies of operatives as material?
Jaune didn't know.
Jacques had just begun to draw breath to speak again when something subtle shifted near the edge of the stage.
Winter Schnee. At first it looked like nothing more than irritation. A brief tightening of her jaw and the faint crease between her brows as she lifted a hand to her ear. The gesture was the kind made by someone accustomed to receiving interruptions even during formal events.
Jaune's eyes lingered on her.
Perhaps it was coincidence. Or perhaps it was the quiet pull of his weakness sense, brushing against something out of place. Either way, the change that followed was impossible to miss.
Winter's expression moved quickly. Annoyance vanished, replaced by sharp focus. Then disbelief. Then something colder and far more dangerous.
Horror.
Her posture snapped rigid.
She turned her head sharply toward the General.
"Sir," Winter said, her voice cutting through Jacques's speech with sudden urgency. "We have a situation in Rime."
Ironwood turned, confusion flashing across his features for less than a second. "Clarify?"
Winter's hand trembled faintly at her ear as she listened to whatever was being relayed. Her lips parted, then pressed together, as if steadying herself.
"…Confirmed," she said, voice tight. "Rank Three Grimm."
The words landed like a dropped plate.
For a heartbeat, the hall did not react.
Jaune felt it before he fully understood it. A cold pressure settling in his chest, instincts screaming long before his mind caught up. Rank Three. The phrase echoed in his thoughts with terrible clarity.
Ironwood's face hardened instantly.
There was no panic or disbelief. Only grim understanding.
"Understood," he said.
And then they were gone.
Jaune barely registered the movement. One moment Ironwood and Winter stood near the stage, the next there was a violent displacement of air. A thunderous rush swept through the hall, knocking guests off balance and sending glasses shattering across marble floors.
Several unawakened guests cried out as they were thrown to the ground. Jacques Schnee himself stumbled, barely kept upright by attendants rushing to his side.
Curtains snapped. Decorations rattled. The massive doors at the far end of the hall slammed open and shut from the pressure wave alone.
"What the hell was that," someone shouted.
The answer was already spreading.
Scrolls buzzed.
Phones chimed.
All at once.
Across the hall, awakened individuals froze as devices lit up in their hands. Some turned pale. Others cursed under their breath. Conversations died instantly, replaced by urgent whispers and hurried movements.
Jaune's own phone vibrated sharply in his pocket.
He didn't take it out, for he didn't need to.
Rank Three Grimm and Rime.
The realization crashed into him with full force.
Rime was a Dream City in Atlas region. A Rank Three Grimm manifesting there was not just dangerous, but catastrophic.
The mood of the room shattered completely.
This was crisis.
.
.
AN: Alright. Now we get to the fun part.
Advanced chapters are available on patreon